Fugue in Green
by ShellGrad
Summary: Twist on Fugue in Red. Sequel to Ruby Resort. Lisbon and the team have very different opinions on who exactly she is when she goes through a fugue of her own. Can Jane get Lisbon back without reminding her of the trauma in her past?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own the Mentalist or it's characters. I only own my creative manipulations of those characters.**

**So, this is a sequel and it would really help to go back and read Ruby Resort if you haven't already. The excerpt in the beginning is just to remind others where RR left off and to provide a smooth transition to Fugue in Green. Spoilers for Fugue in Red if you haven't seen it. And if you haven't, you should really catch up or not read new fanfics because almost all of them have spoilers for the fourth season.**

* * *

_**The end of Ruby Resort**_

He walked into the hospital room to see her sitting up in the bed, playing with the remote to the tiny TV. She noticed him and smiled a big smile he'd never seen before, turning off the TV and putting the remote aside. Something didn't seem right but he shook it off, chalking it up to the fact that she had just died and come back to life in front of his eyes.

"Hi," she greeted, her eyes roaming not so subtly over him.

"Hey." He strolled in with his hands in his pockets. "How are you feeling?"

She laughed. "Is that a trick question? I mean, I am in a hospital."

"Yes, silly question." He sat on the end of the bed.

"Alright," she sighed in faux exasperation and playfully rolled her eyes. "I'm feeling just fine."

"Yes, exceptionally fine for someone who just nearly died. Those must be some powerful pain meds. I noticed you didn't even come close to biting off the nurse's head just now."

She tilted her head to the side and scrunched her eyebrows together in such an adorable expression that it made Jane smile. "Why would I do that? I like nurses. My mom is a nurse, actually…probably has something to do with why I like them," she added as an afterthought.

Jane's smile froze on his face. He felt ice in his veins as he treaded cautiously. "Your mom is a nurse?" He struggled not to emphasize her use of the present tense. Something was off.

"Yeah, back in Chicago. Why?"

He scanned her features and schooled his own as panic set in. "Just making conversation."

"Okay, well now that I've answered your questions, will you answer one of mine?"

"Sure. What's the question?"

"Who are you?" His heart stopped. What alternate world was she living in? "I mean, you're not dressed like one of the doctors or nurses. You're looking at me kind of like a cop but you're certainly not dressed like any cop I've ever seen. To be quite honest, I've never seen a man dressed in a three-piece suit. Are you the local shrink or something?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

"You have no idea who I am, Teresa." It was half-way between a question and a statement.

"No," she smiled back. "Am I supposed to?"

Jane reached forward and encircled her wrist, ignoring the amused look Lisbon sent him and finding her pulse. "Teresa, what are you doing in California?"

She shrugged. "On vacation, I guess?"

"Vacation?"

"Well, yeah." She let out a small laugh. "I couldn't move away from Chicago. I love my parents. I don't think I could stand to be too far away from them."

Cho walked in as Jane forgot how to breathe. "Hey Boss."

"Boss?" Lisbon laughed incredulously. "As if. Like I'd ever really be a cop."

The two men exchanged worried looks and Jane hung his head slightly. Jane sighed softly and stood. "Cho, I'll meet you outside and we'll go talk to the doctor." The agent nodded stiffly left. Jane turned to Lisbon and took her hand. "Teresa, we'll be right back. Please, do me a favor. Don't go anywhere just yet. We all need to talk about this."

She raised a curious eyebrow but nodded, watching as the strange man in the three-piece suit left.

* * *

**Fugue in Green**

"I don't get it." Cho started as soon as the door to the commandeered conference room closed. "She's faced death before and none of this happened."

Van Pelt and Rigsby nodded worriedly in agreement on the other end of the phone, but said nothing. Cho had called them as soon as he and Jane had finished talking to the doctor.

"The doctor said it was probably a past emotional, psychological trauma," Jane reminded. "Her recent brush with death was more physical trauma."

"When you did this, it was because of the emotional trauma of your family." Cho looked to Jane for guidance on the situation.

Jane hummed his agreement.

"What could have happened to Lisbon that would make her not want to remember?" Van Pelt's question hung in the air.

Jane looked up to see Cho staring at him and could only imagine the other two doing the same. "What?"

"What do you know?" Cho deadpanned as Rigsby crossed his arms and looked at the phone.

"What makes you think I know anything?" To any outsider, Jane looked the epitome of innocence. "And even if I did know anything of Lisbon's past, it's not my place to say. Besides, that's not the real issue."

"The Boss not knowing who she is isn't the issue here?"

Jane turned to Cho with a sober look. "No, I'm afraid not. The real issue here is how to help her remember who she is."

"Why?" Van Pelt looked uncomfortable as Rigsby turned his gaze on her and knew the pair in Palm Springs were doing the same. "Well, she seems…happier, especially for someone who almost died. I mean, Jane wanted Lisbon to let him be happy."

"Yeah, and she didn't." Cho's tone suggested she get to the point.

"Well, yeah, but only because Jane's former self was a conman and he would've given Red John another reason to kill again. Lisbon saved him from himself."

"No arguments there, Grace, but what's this got to do with the boss?" Rigsby looked thoroughly confused at this point.

Jane could practically hear Van Pelt roll her eyes and couldn't help but notice how much Lisbon had rubbed off on her. "Lisbon isn't going to do anything like that. Whatever happened to her that she doesn't want to remember is obviously bad but didn't change her personality much other than depress her some and make her a little jaded. Really, what's the worst that could happen?"

"Well, Grace," Jane answered, "she thinks she's on vacation here in California. She thinks she lives in Chicago…with her parents." He paused as he caught the grave look on Cho's face and imagined there were matching ones on the other end of the phone. "Now, what's going to happen when she goes back to Chicago to find both of her parents dead?"

The team let out a collective sigh. "What do you suggest?" Cho asked him.

Jane huffed, wishing he didn't have to be in this situation. "First of all, we have to make sure she doesn't leave California. In the meantime, we need to figure out how to get her memory back."

"Hey, where did Lisbon take you?" Rigsby asked.

"Good idea, Rigsby, but I'm hoping to avoid that at all costs."

"She took him to the Malibu house," Cho answered. "The equivalent for Lisbon would probably be in Chicago."

"So, what are we going to do?"

Jane shook his head at Van Pelt's question. "A better question would be if this Lisbon will let me hypnotize her."

* * *

He took a deep breath with his hand on the door handle before turning it and stepping into the hospital room. He ignored the heaviness in his heart as the woman sitting in the bed turned a brilliant smile toward him. He reminded himself that this was not the Teresa Lisbon he knew. Sure, part of her was there but how much he couldn't know without talking to her more.

"Teresa, I think it's safe to say you've suffered from memory loss," he said, breaking the ice.

She raised an amused eyebrow. "Based on what?"

"You have no idea who we are," he answered, motioning to himself and to Cho talking on the phone outside her room.

He suppressed an amused smile as she seemed to weigh the statement. "Okay," she accepted. "But that's assuming that I've worked with you before."

"Well, I think debating that point is a bit moot."

She scrunched up her face in that adorable way. "Based on what?"

This Lisbon was certainly a bit more argumentative. Perhaps that was because she didn't remember the numerous arguments he'd won with her in the past. "Two memories beat one memory, especially if the one is in a hospital bed."

Again with the adorable pout, she allowed herself to sink back into the pillows. "Alright, I'll give you that. So," she crossed her arms across her chest, "would you like to enlighten me on who you think I am?"

_Still feisty_, he thought to himself. "Now why would I do that? You wouldn't believe me anyway."

"True," she agreed, looking rather pleased with herself. If this Lisbon thought she'd won this round, she was sorely mistaken.

"No, I would like to try something a little different. Well, not so different actually since I've done it with you before. Well, a little different since you're different."

She cleared her throat. "Your point?"

"Yes, well…Teresa, I'd like to put you under light hypnosis to help you get your memory back."

She laughed in his face. "I don't think so. No offense but I'm not about to let some man whose name I don't even know hypnotize me."

"Right, you don't remember me. Patrick Jane," he extended his hand.

She shook his hand. "Okay, but I'm still not letting you hypnotize me."

"You sure?" He asked with a cocky smile, daring her to challenge him.

"Can't make it easy on you, can I Patrick?" She smirked at him, slightly flirtatiously.

He leaned forward, his gaze exaggeratedly intense so that she giggled a little. "So, what will it take, Teresa?"

"Hmm." She put a finger to her chin and looked up at the ceiling in thought. "First," she fixed him with a playfully intimidating look, "I'm going to need proof that you know me and that I work with you guys."

"Personal proof or solid evidence?"

"Solid evidence."

"There's the Lisbon we all know and love," he declared before leaving a flabbergasted Lisbon alone in the hospital room.

"What?" she asked the closed door. "Love?"

* * *

The team looked up as they heard the elevator door open and familiar banter sounded down the hall.

"It's unethical to hypnotize half the hospital to let me out of the hospital before I'm supposed to be walking around, not to mention flying on a plane all the way to Sacramento."

"Yes, you've mentioned that before. But if I may point out, my dear, you're the one who wanted solid evidence. We could have done all of this at the hospital if you would've just let me tell you everything and then taken my word for it."

"Yeah, like that's ever going to happen. Which reminds me…'the Lisbon we all know and love'?"

"What?"

"The 'love' part?" Her tone reminded him of a freaking out teenager, dramatizing the tiniest things.

So, naturally, he couldn't resist pushing her buttons. "What about it?" He held open her office door for her and motioned her in.

"Really? None of that seems weird to you?" She made her way toward the couch.

"No, why should it?"

She spun to face him, her eyes angry. She looked him over. "Patrick Jane, you better tell me right now if there's something going on between the two of us. And if you lie to me, I am walking out of this building right now and you will never see me again."

"What?"

"My mother and father have been married since high school. Marriage is sacred. I would NOT have been involved with you. You are married!"

He looked down at his wedding band and it clicked. He stepped forward, causing her to step backward and look at him warily. He rolled his eyes, stepping forward quicker this time, and took her hands in his. He sat them both down on the couch. "Okay, Teresa. I understand this is all confusing to you. So, I'm going to help everything become clearer. First, let me start by telling you we are not romantically involved."

"So, you don't love me?" She asked for clarification. She waited as he remained silent. He seemed to be having an internal debate with himself. She wanted to leave him alone in his thoughts but she was growing more anxious by the minute. "Patrick, I kind of need an answer."

"Right, sorry." He shook his head slightly. "Teresa, there's something you should know about me. I'm not married."

"I beg to differ."

"No, Teresa. Years ago, around the time that you and I first met, my wife and daughter were killed by a serial killer named Red John."

"Oh my God," she whispered.

"I've been chasing him ever since. Well, we've been chasing him. So, even if there were feelings, it wouldn't be adultery."

"Right," she nodded absentmindedly.

He reluctantly released her hands, realizing he'd still been holding them. He stood and cleared his throat. He needed to get out of here. "I'll be right back. I'm going to go get that proof for you." He grinned cheekily before leaving.

She nodded and let out a big breath when he left. He hadn't answered her question. But, the real reason she had asked was because she had thought he was married and that was NOT okay. But apparently, he _wasn't_ married, at least not anymore. He still wore his ring though. She wondered about it for a minute before deciding it wasn't her business. He probably wasn't ready to move on. But, then why hadn't he just said no? Did he love her? _Oh no_, she thought as her eyes went wide. No, he didn't. He couldn't. And even if he did, which Lisbon did he love? The her she knew? Or the her he knew? _Oh don't be ridiculous_, she chided herself. _There's only one you_. Wasn't there?

* * *

Jane let out a big breath as he closed the door to the office behind him. No, he hadn't answered her question. He'd deliberately not answered. She'd said that if he'd lied, then she'd walk out and he'd never see her again. Of course, he knew that wasn't really what she was talking about. But, he hadn't wanted her to find a loop hole when she freaked out over him actually being in love with her. He hadn't even known himself until he realized he wasn't able to say that he _didn't_ love her. What a revelation that had been…and with her in the room, too. When he found what he was looking for, he returned to the office to his waiting friend. _That's right_, Jane reminded himself, _friend… and nothing more… for now, anyway_. He stopped short at the last part. His subconscious was really running away today. He shook his head slightly and put his game face on as he opened the office door.

"Okay, here we are," Jane said as he placed a box on the table in front of them.

She leaned forward to peek in. "What is all of this?" She gestured to the miscellaneous items in the box.

"Proof, my dear Lisbon, of all different sorts. This way, you'll have no way to deny the truth."

She chuckled. "Okay. Let's see, then." He smiled and brought something out of the box. "A wallet?"

"Your license," he corrected, flipping it open to show her. "So you can't deny your name."

She laughed. "I'm not denying my name!" She looked at him like he'd lost his mind.

"No loopholes," Jane replied. She rolled her eyes, causing him to smile. He reached in again. "Your name plate. I actually just took this from your door. Don't worry, I'll put it back when we're done."

"Mmhmm." He handed her a newspaper clipping. "What's this?"

"The day we met," he answered softly. "That's my house. You had just finished questioning me."

"Oh yeah? How was I?"

"Gentle."

"Good." She nodded softly before placing the clipping to the side. She reached into the box, picking up a picture of her and the team. She was wearing a black formal gown. The rest of the team was dressed up as well. "Cute bowtie," she commented.

"Ah," he leaned over to take a look. "That was at a charity event. Unfortunately, we didn't get to stay dressed up for very long. Our hosts had someone in the family murdered and we had to work the case."

"Patrick, what's that around my neck?" Her tone was curious and confused.

He froze for a moment. "Looks like a necklace. A cross, perhaps."

"I know it's a cross. It's my mother's cross." She started to raise her voice.

"Huh."

"Patrick, why am I wearing my mother's cross?" She practically yelled at him.

He sighed and lowered his head, shaking it slightly. "Teresa, I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd notice that part. I didn't want to cross this particular bridge just yet." He took a deep breath and let it out. "Teresa, your mother died when you were thirteen." He had no sooner gotten the words out of his mouth than she stood and called him a liar. He saw the flash of her fist only seconds before feeling it connect with his face. He blinked at the searing pain in his cheek and watched, blurry eyed, as she spun on her heel and stormed out of the building, taking the stairs in an attempt to get away from him as fast as possible. He briefly thought about her injuries and how she shouldn't be exerting herself before the pain hit him again.

"Here." Jane heard Cho's voice before feeling something cold in his hand. He looked to see what it was before gently pressing the ice-pack against his face.

"Thanks, though I doubt it'll help much. I think she might have fractured my jaw."

"No, it just looks bruised. You'll be fine. What happened?"

"She noticed she was wearing her mother's cross in one of the pictures."

"So you told her that her mother was dead?" Van Pelt asked and Jane nodded.

"How'd she take it?" Rigsby asked.

"Obviously not well," Cho answered.

"No, not well at all," Jane agreed.

"Where'd she go?"Cho asked.

"I'm not actually psychic, Cho."

"Best guess then."

Jane sighed and thought for a minute. "Well, her apartment's a bust. She doesn't know who she is so she doesn't know where she lives."

"Chicago."

He shook his head. "No, I don't think she's a flight risk. She won't want to go there and find that everything I said was right."

"Because this Lisbon is just as determined to prove you wrong as the Lisbon we know?"

"No, because it will mean that her parents really are dead."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I wished I owned the show but I don't.**

**Thanks to everyone who read/reviewed! Sorry this chapter took so long. I'm currently in the one week break between spring semester and summer semester. So can't wait to be done with grad school. Anyway, I talk to much. Enjoy! Let me know your thoughts.**

* * *

She didn't know where she was going but she knew she had to get out of there and quick. She felt a pang in her chest that she tried to ignore. This heavy, despairing sense of loss made no sense. She couldn't feel like she'd just lost her best friend when she didn't even know the man she'd just punched. She pushed on down staircase after staircase, ignoring the growing part of her that wanted to turn back and see if he was okay. She stepped out of the lobby doors and looked up at the tall buildings from the sidewalk, breathing heavily. Her chest burned. Her head pounded. She began walking, not knowing or caring where she was going. She just had to get out of there and away from everyone who thought they knew her.

* * *

Lisbon heard a knock and sighed before opening her eyes. She stood and opened the door, her eyes narrowing at her visitor who responded with a wide smile.

"Hi, may I come in?" She said nothing as she turned and walked away, leaving the door open for him. She stood in front of the bed, her back to him, but did and said nothing. "Did you walk all the way here?" His question elicited no response. "This hotel is 3 miles from the CBI."

She barely silenced her retort about how he had apparently resorted to stating the obvious. Behind her, she heard Jane give a frustrated sigh. "Would you stop running away from me please?" He finally asked, his voice desperate.

She spun around, the venom in her gaze hurtful. "Give me one good reason why."

"Because I almost lost you!" he blurted out.

She closed her eyes with a sigh and let herself drop onto the hotel bed, unmindful of her injuries and winced as her sore body made contact with the cheap mattress. She took a few ragged breaths to control the pain before turning her attention to him. "Patrick, why is this so important to you?"

"We should get you to the hospital, get you checked out. I shouldn't have let you run out of the office like that. It's hard on your injuries."

"Stop sounding so guilty. It's not like you caused them."

"How do you know? You can't even remember."

She looked at him pointedly. "Did you hit me on the back of the head?"

"No."

"Then you didn't cause it."

"Indirectly."

"Shut up, Patrick." She rolled her eyes and walked past him to open the door and leave.

"You know, when all this is over, I might miss you calling me Patrick," he mused as he followed her and closed the door.

"Would you prefer I start calling you Jane already?" She quipped with a smirk as they walked down the hallway.

"Nah, it wouldn't be natural. The Teresa Lisbon you think you are can't fathom being a cop and therefore can't fathom calling me by my last name as procedure dictates."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're an irritating know-it-all?"

"Several, actually. But you love me anyway."

_I just might, actually_, she thought to herself but didn't dare speak it aloud.

* * *

She woke with a start in the hospital bed. She looked around and, seeing no one in the dark room, let her head fall back on the pillow and let out a half groan, half sigh. "Bad dream?" She closed her eyes at the voice and saw the small bedside light turn on behind her eyelids. She opened them to see Jane sitting in between her bed and the window, looking at her calmly. Of course he hadn't left after dropping her off. That would be too easy. Eyes of a hawk, this one. He rarely let her out of his sight since she woke up in a similar hospital in Palm Springs.

"Do you have nightmares, Patrick?"

"Sometimes."

She seemed to consider his answer. "That makes sense. You did mention what happened to your family. And since you showed me that picture of us outside of your home the day that it happened and you said that I had just finished questioning you, I'm assuming you're the one who found them. Plus, I didn't see anyone else in the photo."

"How astute. That's one of the things that make you a good cop."

"I'm not a cop."

He continued as if she hadn't spoke. "You're right, Lisbon. I do have nightmares about that night. But that's not what all of my bad dreams are about."

"They aren't?"

"No, Teresa," he said calmly, as if talking to a child who needed to figure out the answer on their own.

"What else do you have nightmares about then?"

He paused to study her before taking a breath and leaning forward. "How about we make a deal? I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."

She scrutinized him for a moment, weighing her options. "Alright."

He nodded. "Well, most recently, my nightmares not involving that particular night revolve around you."

"Me?" She failed to stop the small smile at the thought that he was dreaming of her.

"And the sickening crack I can't get out of my head from your latest brush with death."

She cringed. "I'm sorry, Patrick." He smiled slightly at her unnecessary apology. He could have prevented what happened to land them in this position. That was the main reason he kept blaming himself since he was the only one with her that day and he had a tendency to pride himself on being all-seeing and all-knowing. "Patrick, what happened?"

"The short version?"

"If that's what's easier for you, sure," she shrugged.

"Easier for _me_?" He laughed sadly, shaking his head. "That's our Lisbon, always making life easier for everyone else rather than herself."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, how can it be hard on me? I don't even remember it," she pointed out.

He had to give her that one. "Okay, well, you were hit from behind, a blow to the head – the force of which knocked you into the pool, nearly causing you to drown."

"The sickening crack," she said softly, catching on to his earlier comment.

"Teresa, I don't want to do this." Jane stood and walked to the window, running his hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry. I guess it isn't really fair of me to ask you to relive it." He looked over to see her head drooped, watching her fingers play with the hospital sheets. "Maybe it isn't really fair of me to ask you anything," she added softly.

He sighed and shook his head as he walked over, numerous memories – favors ask on his part – rolling through his head at high speed. He sat on the bed beside her and stilled her fidgety hands. "You have every right to ask a favor of me. I've certainly asked for my fair share over the years," he added with a smirk, earning him a small smile of amusement.

He patted her hands before standing and heading back to sit in his chair again. He ran his hand over his face tiredly. "You were in Palm Springs on vacation. You were staying at a resort. You had received the reservation as a birthday gift from your brothers. However, your brothers didn't actually send it to you but you didn't know that, so you left."

He sighed. "I should have figured it out sooner. I should have known. You kept saying you couldn't get in touch with your brothers. They're fine, by the way. Hurting them wasn't Red John's intention."

"Red John? He's still alive? You'd think we'd have caught him considering how long we've been working the case."

He continued as though he hadn't heard her. Lisbon figured he probably hadn't. He seemed to be stuck in his own guilt, as if he alone were to blame for this whole thing. "No, his intention was to hurt you to get to me."

"Why would he do that?"

"I should have pushed you away sooner. I knew I should have."

"Why didn't you?"

"But, no. You kept saying we were a team. We were like a family and that was a betrayal," he inadvertently answered her question.

He sighed and shook the thoughts out of his head, trying to stay on task. "Anyway, there was a Red John murder at the resort you were staying at. Cho and I came down to investigate it. You forced me to play my hand. I told you. I said I didn't want to do the plan. I tried to get you to run away. I tried to make you safe."

"Hold on, why wasn't I safe? Red John couldn't have possibly known I was there."

"He paid for the reservation, Lisbon. He set it up. You were supposed to be in that room that night."

"Then why wasn't I?"

"Computer error. You told me about it when you landed." She raised an eyebrow. He could tell she was again wondering about his feelings for her, though it was obvious she wasn't exactly sure what those feelings were or was at least in denial if she did know the true nature of his feelings for her. He certainly wasn't going to give her more to work with in that area. "I called you," he said, as if that was the only explanation she needed right now.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, the familiar action giving him more comfort than he'd ever divulge. "I'm confused. There's just so much I don't understand. Why would I put myself in a situation like that?"

"Like what? You'll have to be a little more specific about _which_ situation we're talking about."

"All of them! Why would I go on a vacation Red John paid for?"

"Ah, that was because you didn't know."

"Why would I put myself in danger by going along with your plan?"

He smiled sadly. "I've been wondering that myself for years, wondering why you still work with me after all these years…wondering why you still go along with my plans. I believe your standard response is that I close cases. I catch a lot of bad guys. You told me once that most days that's enough."

"And other days?"

"I suppose you're the only one who can answer that."

"The me that you remember." He hummed his agreement. "How different am I to her?"

He hesitated, gauging how much to say. She really wished he'd just tell her the truth and stop measuring his answers. "You're happier this way."

"And you won't just let me be happier?" She needed to understand why this was so important to him.

His face darkened. "It isn't that simple."

"It never is with you," she retorted, half irritated, half amused. "Everything is complicated with you. There are always bits and pieces of the story. There's never a full story." He stood and made his way to the door. "I'm not finished with you yet." Her authoritative voice stopped his hand on the handle and he turned to face her silently. "Sit down." He raised an eyebrow but went back to his seat. "Stop measuring your answers. Stop censoring. It's annoying. It's hard enough trying to accept the fact that what I remember isn't what really happened and I have a completely different life than the one that I know. I can't begin to fathom what exactly went wrong in my life for you to know someone so different than who I know. Can you imagine what it's like to question your own identity?"

He smiled. "Sort of. I apparently went through something similar, not that I remember it, of course, and you probably won't remember this either. But, I was told by our team members that I asked you to just let me be happy. Apparently, I knew everyone was dancing around some forgotten tragedy but no one would tell me."

"But I didn't let you."

"Now that's clever, Lisbon. How did you know it was you who didn't let me go?"

"Don't patronize me. Why didn't I let you?"

"I'm sure you had your reasons," he answered softly.

"And I take it I never told you what those reasons were?"

"No," he smiled.

She sighed. "This is so irritating! I can't deal with all of this dancing around the issues. We need to just talk. Forget all the bull about boundaries and walls and why do I even need walls? What am I so afraid of?"

"Someone actually caring about you. You put up walls to keep people out. If no one ever cares, they can't ever get hurt."

"Yeah, well, that obviously worked like a charm. If I didn't care, you'd be happier somewhere else and I may not even be in this weird state. Or, even if I was, it would still be my own fault and no one would be telling me differently. I'd be in Chicago trying to find my family and you wouldn't be sitting here, forcing me to face your reality. No one would be sitting there," she added quietly.

"I wouldn't really be happier, Lisbon, and we both know that. The team had said I was running, that I had remembered a small something and that I was running. It doesn't surprise me. Who would want to remember something like that? Besides, if I'd run, the team was right in assuming I'd probably just give Red John yet another reason to kill again. Also, I'm not the only one who cares about you and, yes, I do care about you. You said it, Lisbon. Our team is like a family and if I wasn't here, they'd be here. Well, Cho would. He's the only one who comes close to having enough balls to stand up to you."

His last comment had meant to draw a smile out of her but instead he was rewarded with a pout. He had forgotten that this Lisbon didn't like others to be intimidated by her. "How about I finish telling you what happened?" She nodded. "Okay. So, we went forward with the plan – "

"What was the plan?"

"I took you out to dinner for your birthday and to celebrate life since you were meant to be dead."

"At what point does this sound like a plan?"

"Lisbon, Red John made a mistake. Red John doesn't make mistakes. Going out to dinner with you and appearing to have started to move on, flashing his mistake in his face…that was sure to draw him out. He would have been watching. He would have been waiting for the right time to strike. And what better time than that?"

"You angered a serial killer to lure him out of hiding?"

"Well, when you say it like that, it sounds bad."

"It is bad!"

"Do you want to hear the rest of the story or not?"

"Did it work?"

"Who do you think hit you in the head?" She said nothing, understanding clear on her features. The images of that night flashed so clearly, he couldn't stop the commentary flowing out of his mouth. "We were sitting by the pool. You'd stopped and pulled off your shoes so you could put your feet in the water. The reflecting moon dancing among the ripples on the water. You looked so beautiful in that dress, with your hair curly. I told you so without thinking. I'd told you how beautiful you were. We weren't paying close enough attention to our surroundings. I should have been looking out. I should have told you the plan. That sound was so close. He was so close. And I didn't even know. I could do anything. He hit you…in the back of your head and I couldn't do anything. I heard the sound, that sickening crack and next thing I knew, there was water all around me. I pulled myself out. I saw Cho working on you. You were so still. Then you took your first breath – "

He cut himself off as he took in the curious tilt of her head and the softness of her eyes.

"I suppose it's natural for you to feel a little guilty. From what it sounds like, you were the only one there with me. You seem like the kind of guy who notices everything; so, you feel bad about not noticing something that according to everyone nearly killed me. You don't have to worry about my forgiveness, Patrick. And you should forgive yourself, too. As for getting the scene out of your head, the only help I can offer is the assurance that being ignorant is not blissful."

"I would have guessed differently from the way you acted when you first woke up."

"Yeah, well that was before I knew I was someone different…and before nightmares that I pray aren't real."

"Depends on what happened. You did, after all, agree to tell me what your bad dream was about if I told you about my nightmares."

She hesitated and put on a variation of old Lisbon's serious, lecture face. "Patrick, there's something you need to understand. My father is a good man. He would never hit me nor would he ever hit my brothers."

Jane sighed and shook his head, staring at the floor. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and scrubbed his face with his hands. "Teresa, please don't tell me that."

"It's true, Patrick, and you need to know it," she insisted, her voice strong.

"Lisbon, that's not a nightmare. It's a memory. And, yes, the only reason I'm telling you this so bluntly is because I know you can't hit me. Cho says you didn't fracture my jaw. I think he should bear your right hook to the face before he speaks on that particular subject."

"Patrick, I'm going back to Chicago." To any outsider, it seemed like a quick change of subject but she hadn't rushed her words. She'd thought long and hard about this.

"Not happening."

"Patrick – "

"No, Teresa. End of discussion."

"Excuse me?" She looked at him incredulously.

"I'm not letting you go back to Chicago. Your parents aren't there. They're in a cemetery. There's no big, happy family waiting for you in a house with a white picket fence."

"Have I always appreciated your bluntness?"

"Lisbon, I want you to remember. Do I ever want you to remember….But, Lisbon, I do _not_ want you to remember like that. I can help you remember. All you have to do is let me help you."

They both looked up at the sound of the door opening. "Hey," Tommy stuck his head in. "Are we interrupting anything?"

Jane said nothing as Lisbon's face broke into a wide smile. "Tommy!" She waved him in, Annie following close behind. Annie shot him a questioning look, frowning when he shook his lowering head. "You guys didn't have to come all the way down from Chicago. I was just telling Patrick here that I was going to come back up there as soon as I can leave the hospital." Annie's head snapped in Jane's direction as he studiously avoided her gaze.

Tommy spoke before Annie could jump in. "Reese, we don't live in Chicago. Annie and I live in California, remember? You fussed at me not too long ago about me being a bounty hunter."

Her eyes widened in curiosity and excitement. "What? That's so cool! My little brother, the bounty hunter." She looked him with pride, shaking her head slightly in disbelief. "Mom's not going to like it."

"Wha-"

"Hey, let's talk outside for a moment, shall we?" Jane stood and pushed the gaping duo out the door before they could say anything else.

Annie turned to him. "You said she lost her memory. You didn't say she's gone completely nuts."

"Easy, Annie," Jane soothed.

"What the hell is she talking about me living in Chicago?" Tommy asked, thoroughly confused.

"Okay, listen to me, both of you. Lisbon has created an alternate reality. Now, she probably did this while she was unconscious but that's not the important part. The important part is that I know the event that she settled on this alternate reality; her mother's death. Unfortunately, I don't know the exact date and time of this death but I could figure that out easily. What I'm having trouble with is getting her to agree to let me hypnotize her. She doesn't remember me, after all."

"Wait a second," Tommy interrupted, causing Annie and Jane to turn to him. "She thinks our mother's still alive?"

"Yes."

"So our father…"

"Was never abusive. In fact, we've had several arguments about that already. She punched me in the jaw for supposedly lying about her mother dying when she noticed she was wearing her mother's cross in an old photo of the team. She just recently had a nightmare that I'm almost positive was a memory of being abused by him. Now, other important things to know: I've told her that she is absolutely not allowed to go back to Chicago. We'd all rather her not have to remember in a traumatic way. We're trying to make it as easy as possible."

"Well, who says she has to remember anyway?"

"Dad," Annie objected but Jane shushed her.

"No, let's hear what he has to say."

"Well, she's happier. And I just got my sister back. That's enough. I don't her to – " He cut himself off. "That man was not our father. He – UGH! – You're not supposed to hit your children."

"Lisbon lied. Your father didn't kill himself, did he, Tommy? That's what Lisbon was going to forgive you for when we were on a case and I convinced her she was dying. That's why all the Lisbon siblings aren't speaking to each other," he spoke mostly to himself then perked up. "Did you know it was her dying – albeit false – wish that you three make up? She wants your brother to forgive you for killing their father. Of course, you're the youngest. You didn't know him before the alcohol, before the abuse. He wasn't a father to you."

"He was a monster," Tommy said, taking the words out of Jane's mouth.

"Yes. Yes, he was. And no matter how hard it is to believe, Lisbon will find it in her heart to forgive you a second time. She wants to be a family. We want her to remember for her sake, Tommy. We don't want her to go to Chicago and be all alone when she remembers."

"What do you need us to do?" Annie asked calmly.

Jane didn't suppress his smile. "You're a lot like her, you know? Anyway, we've all agreed to point out the differences between the life she leads and the life she thinks she leads. She is interested in the differences but it's a little hard for her to accept. Be supportive. Point out the things that are wrong, no matter how hard they are."

"Who did this to her?" Annie asked Jane quietly as Tommy went in the hospital room.

"Red John."

"Did you catch him?"

"Yeah."

"Did you kill him?"

"No, I didn't."

Annie failed to suppress a small smile. "Good for you. Has he talked yet?"

"Annie," Jane warned.

"What? I'm just curious."

Jane shook his head but answered her anyway, though he knew old Lisbon wouldn't be happy about it. "No, he hasn't. He wants to talk to me."

"What are you going to do?"

"Annie, I didn't just find this out. I've known since she was unconscious. What do you think I've been doing with your aunt?"

"I've got my own theories about _exactly_ what you've been doing with Aunt Reese. But, with that said, old Aunt Reese would want you to go talk to him. Go, I'll take care of her," Annie assured before walking into the hospital room to join her dad. Jane gave the door a lingering look before listening to Annie and walking down the hall. It was time to find out what exactly Red John wanted to talk about.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Oh, how I wish I owned it…but, alas, I do not.**

* * *

"Annabeth, where's your mother?" Annie gritted her teeth before calmly facing her aunt. The woman didn't honestly know any better. It wasn't her fault.

"Aunt Reese, my mother left the two of us. She ran off. Guess she didn't want a kid," Annie finished with a laugh, trying to wipe the depressing look off Lisbon's face.

"What about James and – "

"We don't really talk," Tommy cut her off. "No one really talks to me anymore but you, Reese."

"Why?"

"Well, I don't really – " He hedged before she cut off his evasion.

"Why?" She demanded.

"Look, Reese," Tommy explained calmly. "There are some things that you don't want to remember."

"Don't tell me what I want!" Lisbon nearly shouted.

"Okay," Annie said as she maneuvered herself in between them. "You go outside," she told her dad as she gently pushed him out the door. She turned back and sat on Lisbon's bed. "Aunt Reese, Dad's a little shaken up. Jane told us about the accident over the phone and he'd said you'd lost your memory. He didn't say how much of your memory you'd lost. And this is all just bringing up a lot of bad memories for Dad. Believe me, the last thing he wants to do is upset you."

"Annabeth – "

"Annie," the teen corrected.

"Annie, I know it seems inconsiderate but I couldn't care less how your father feels right now. I have a right to know. Tommy and Patrick…They can't keep deciding what I _am_ and _am not_ allowed to remember. They can't keep telling me _how_ I'm allowed to remember. I'm so sick and tired of everyone telling me what to do, how to do it, when to do it, and refusing to give me a legitimate reason why I _should_ do it. I'm an adult and I make my own decisions!"

"What the hell do you want me to say, Reese?"

Annie whipped around to see that her father had snuck back into the room. She was quickly losing control of the situation as the Lisbon siblings were now yelling at each other.

Tommy pushed on. "Do you want me to tell you why you're so good at using foundation to cover up bruises? Do you want me to talk about all the times we had miss days at school because the make-up just wouldn't cut it? Do you want to remember all the times you took the beatings for us? Do you want me to enlighten you on what happened after you were unconscious? Would you like to know just what happened when you weren't there?"

"Yes! As a matter of fact, I WOULD like to know! If that's what really happened, if you're not lying to me, then PROVE it! Tell me everything, Tommy!"

"NO!"

"WHY?"

"Because you don't want to remember! If you wanted to remember, you wouldn't have created some alternate reality while you were unconscious. You DON'T want to remember. _I_ don't want to remember! A father doesn't hit his own children!"

"Our father would never do something like that!"

"Yes, he would and he did!"

"Oh really?" She asked disbelievingly. "Our father was twice my height and weight. So tell me: how is it I'm not dead right now if he beat me like you say he did?" She asked challengingly.

"Because I killed him!"

Dead silence filled the room. Annie looked anxiously between the two fuming adults. Before, she'd worried that her aunt's heart monitor would explode. Now she was worried if Lisbon was breathing at all. "Aunt Reese?" she asked tentatively.

The feisty agent never took her eyes off of her younger brother. "Get. Out." Her icy tone and stony glare left no room for rebuttal.

"Come on, Annie," Tommy said as he left, failing to hide the deep hurt in his voice.

"Sorry, Annie," Lisbon apologized, still glaring at the hospital door.

"Bye Aunt Reese." She quietly slipped out to join her father.

* * *

"Patrick Jane," the soft voice surmised as the consultant entered the interrogation room.

He kept his calm exterior. "You wanted to see me. Here I am." His voice sounded hollow and stony to his own ears though his rage boiled beneath the surface. He felt precariously balanced in this moment.

The middle-aged man gave him a cold, empty smile. "How is the radiant Agent Lisbon, Patrick? Is she with her mother now? Worried she might be telling your wife you cheated on her with the feisty cop you've been using to exact your revenge?" He taunted.

"Now we're going straight to torturing me? Going for the last weapons in your arsenal now that you're caught," he surmised with raised eyebrow. He kept telling himself to keep it empty. They were all just words. Words couldn't hurt. And words were all that Red John had left now. His last weapon of choice was empty. Jane wouldn't let it hurt him now. Not now that he had the serial killer right where he wanted him and Lisbon to take care of.

Soft, hollow laughter filled the room. "Caught? Perhaps. But who says that's the end of our game?" He gave an eerie smile as his eyes seemed to blacken.

"The prison personnel may have a problem with that, don't you think?" He quipped darkly.

"Oh, Patrick, you're still one step behind as always," he responded condescendingly, shaking his head as he tutted his disapproval.

"That's cryptic enough," he countered dryly, taking a leaf out of Cho's book.

"Tell me, have you found the colleague of yours that tipped me off? I'm not speaking, of course, of that worthless spy Wainwright. No, I'm talking about my true mole. Tell me, where has he gone?" He asked, head tilted ever so slightly, faux confused expression firmly in place.

"Bertram," Jane whispered, his face pale. He stood quickly and whipped toward the door. "Cho!"

* * *

Lisbon waited until the door closed after her niece to release the blanket clenched in her white-knuckled fists. She flexed her hands before tossing her pillow across the room, harmlessly making the small television wobble slightly before stilling once again. She let the angry tears stream down her face as she carefully removed the IV and turned off the heart monitor before slipping the device off her finger. She needed to get out of here. Someone was going to come back, whether it was Patrick or Tommy, and she refused to let anyone control her any longer.

* * *

Jane flipped open his phone, flying down the stairs as he waited impatiently for the line to connect. He nearly jumped when a voice sounded through the phone. "Jane?"

"Annie! Where's Lisbon?"

"Still in her hospital room. Why?"

"Are you sure?"

"Well, Dad and I just left and she was still there."

"You left her alone?"

"Well, I didn't really have much choice, Jane. Her and Dad got into and she made him leave. Besides, what the big deal? Red John – " Annie cut herself off as ice coursed through her veins. "He escaped," she breathed.

"No, he didn't escape."

"What is wrong with you? You scared the crap out of me! Don't do that! She's allowed to have _some_ alone time, Jane."

"Annie, Red John has a network. He has connections. Only he knows how many people are out there who could come after her."

Annie flipped the phone shut and turned to her father, giving him her most intimidating stare. "Turn around, now! We've gotta go back."

* * *

Lisbon was just straightening her top when a knock sounded on the door before an older man stuck his head in. "Agent Lisbon."

She huffed and rolled her eyes at the title. "I wish everyone would stop calling me that." She noted the man's confusion and decided to explain. "I'm not Agent Lisbon. Well, not really…I don't think. I don't know. I don't remember. My name is Teresa Lisbon. That's about all I know. Do I know you? Or, rather, should I know you?"

The older man hesitated before smoothly falling in her line of thinking. "I'm Director Bertram. I'm your boss."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Lisbon shook his hand before grabbing her things. "Patrick must not have had the time to explain things to you. How could he? He's been hovering around me since I woke up in Palm Springs," she muttered to herself before returning her attention to her newly met boss. "Since I have you here, Director, I should let you know I'm leaving town. I need to get back to Chicago. I need to straighten some things out and Patrick and my little brother are standing in the way. I just need to get away for a while. I don't know how long I'll be. It could take a week. It could take a year. But, I need some answers and I need to find them on my own."

"Well, I can't say it will be easy without you. You're a great agent, Lisbon, and we'll miss you immensely. I'm certain Jane will as well. I hope you know you'll always have a job at the CBI. Of course, there's just a small bit of paperwork that needs to be done for official purposes, you understand."

"Of course."

"If you wanted to rest here, we could take care of it on Monday."

"Um, sir, if it's all the same to you, I'd like to get this out of the way as soon as possible. Patrick will never let me leave if he catches wind of it so I sort of need to leave, you know, immediately?"

"Yes, of course, I understand. He can be a bit manipulative at times. We can head to my office now, if you like," he suggested.

"That'd be great," she smiled before leading the way out, never seeing the eerie smile her companion sent to the empty room before following her out of the hospital.

* * *

Annie ran through the hospital corridors, ignoring the protests of the staff and her father who was desperately trying to keep up. She wrenched open the door to her aunt's room to find Jane about to exit said door. "She isn't here," he answered her unasked question before pushing past her.

"We need to see all of your surveillance footage immediately," Cho ordered. Thirty minutes later, the six of them were crowded around a computer monitor. "Stop the tape." Van Pelt obediently clicked the button and the screen froze on Lisbon exiting her hospital room with Bertram.

"She's trying to sneak out," Jane pointed out. "Look at her face, it's slightly paranoid but she's treating him like a partner in crime. She's running from us and she knows the hospital will contact us. Van Pelt, follow her movements to the back exit using cameras three, nine, and fifteen."

The agent did so and Van Pelt stopped the camera when Lisbon had reached the exit. "That's the last time we see her. There's no camera in the back. We won't be able to see the car or where they went."

"Where would he take her?" Rigsby asked. Five pairs of eyes turned to Jane who sighed.

* * *

"Sir? Um, this doesn't look like your office." Lisbon gulped silently to herself as she took in the abandoned warehouse.

"I don't suppose you'd believe it was under construction, would you?" He asked with a dark smile. "Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way, agent. Which is it going to be?"

"Easy," she whispered, horrified.

"Good," he said, his smile widening as he stepped out the car. He made his way to the passenger side of the car and roughly pulled her out of the seat and toward the rust covered building, not noticing or caring as she winced.

Once inside, he took her up the rickety stairs to a small windowless room. Lisbon just had time to notice the observation screens before the director forced her into the single chair and handcuffed her hands behind her. She hadn't noticed any cameras in the hallway and from the look on Jane and Cho's faces, as well as the other agents with them, they hadn't noticed them either as she saw them sneak from one screen to the other slowly making their way to the room she was being held in.

She smiled at the blonde consultant coming to her rescue. He certainly had seemed the protective type though not necessarily the aggressive type. She wiped the grin off her face as she realized her rescue wouldn't work if Bertram noticed the team on the screens. "Why are you doing this Director?"

She contained a triumphant smirk as he turned his back to the screens and the team inched closer. "Loyalty, Lisbon…something you of all people certainly understand. I've seen you bail Patrick Jane out of trouble more times than anyone deserves, least of all him."

"Loyalty to whom?" She asked, ignoring the rage she felt at his jabs at Jane. What was wrong with her? She barely knew the man!

"A mutual acquaintance between Patrick and myself," he answered as he brought out a knife, his apparent weapon of choice for what he assumed to be her imminent demise.

"Does this have anything to do with Red John?"

"Very good, Lisbon." She scowled at his condescending tone. "One wonders how you actually became to be such a great agent."

"If you're done insulting the poor woman, how about you let her go, Gale?" The director turned to see the blonde consultant leaning against the doorway with a cool, calm expression as Cho blocked the doorway, gun and flashlight in position. "Hi, Teresa."

"Hey," she responded dryly.

"You alright?"

"Oh, yeah, just peachy. I'm handcuffed to a chair!" She struggled and clinked the metal to make her point. He cocked his head as if to say '_Really?_' She narrowed her eyes and clinked the metal twice more before shutting up.

He rolled his eyes before turning his attention back to Bertram. "Your master's in a jail cell and there's not a jury in this world who won't convict him. You're wasting your time. Killing her won't please him."

"Well I rather doubt that."

"Oh, I bet you do. There's no point in trying to correct his mistake. Red John failed and he'll never be free just like you've failed. It's time to give up, Gale. If you're lucky, maybe you'll be roommates with the man you so twistedly admire."

"Oh, there's nothing twisted about it, Patrick." He flashed the same cold, dark smile as he slowly twisted the handle of the knife in his hand, walking slowly to position himself behind Lisbon. He stroked her hair, causing Lisbon to wrinkle her nose in disgust and Jane to tense ever so slightly. "You have to admire a man who could bring the two of you so close together. Call her a gift, Patrick. Everything you want but don't deserve. And because of an unforeseen turn of events, she's all shiny and brand new. Old Teresa was so jaded, was she not?" He grabbed her hair and forcefully tilted her head back ever so slightly, exposing her neck while making sure Jane would see her eyes. "Well, it was always Red John's intent to take away your new toy, Patrick. And to make up for my earlier blunder, well, I guess I'll have to do it for him!" He rushed out the last part before attempting to make the quick, slicing motion.

In a manner of seconds, Lisbon saw Jane pushed backwards up against the wall by Cho's one hand while the other fired off rounds straight through the director's skull, his heart being blocked by Lisbon's body. She breathed heavily as the clean knife clattered to the floor and she heard the heavy thud of the dead body hitting the floor behind her. She breathed heavily as Cho moved forward and unlocked the handcuffs with his key. As soon as her hands were free, she was out of the room in a flash, running into Van Pelt at the top of the stairs. The younger agent stilled Lisbon and after glancing at the dead body and two team members, led her to another room. "I'll take your statement now, Boss, before everyone else gets here."

Cho pulled out his cell phone and called forensics and the coroner. Jane began to get his breathing under control. It was okay. She was alive. It was another failed attempt. His breathing evened out and he closed his eyes. His heart still felt as if it would beat out of his chest. He didn't think he could take many more life and death encounters…and it wasn't even _his_ life that was in danger! Funny how the pain of losing someone you love is greater than the pain of actually dying.

As Rigsby entered, Cho handed off his gun as procedure dictated. "What happened?" Rigsby asked.

Before either man could answer, Van Pelt entered. "Lisbon said she left the hospital with him to fill out some paper work so she could take some time off and head to Chicago. She said she didn't realize what was going on until they pulled up to the abandoned warehouse and figured it couldn't possibly be his office, which was where they were supposed to be going. She said he led her up here and when she saw us on the monitors, she got him talking to distract him while we got closer."

"That's my girl," Jane muttered, grinning to himself.

The three agents paused before Cho decided to continue. "We finally got here and Jane tried to talk him down. Lisbon was perfectly fine…Well, physically unharmed," he amended. "It was during the conversation that the director moved behind Lisbon and threatened to slit her throat. His body was shielded by her own so to save her life, I took the only shot I had…to the head."

"And on the record, that seems the logical thing to do and you probably won't be punished for saving a fellow agent's life. Off the record," Van Pelt paused in taking notes, "they're going to question why you took more than one shot."

"I'll deal with them when the time comes. How's Lisbon?"

"Pretty shaken up. Pretty quiet. She's in the next room."

"No she isn't," Jane said from the doorway. They looked at him confused at both his statement and the fact they hadn't heard him leave the room.

"What do you mean she isn't in there?"

"Now, how can that statement have more than one meaning, Cho?"

Cho slammed his hand against the wall. "Search the damn city again!"

"No," Jane said slowly, as if the thought just occurred to him. "I know where she is."

* * *

Teresa Lisbon took a breath and put the rental car in drive. Why was there dread in her heart? She was only leaving the airport. She was headed home…if she still had a home. No, she couldn't think like that. She shook her head. She wouldn't let this feeling – this doubt Patrick and Tommy had planted in her head – bring her down. She'd push it back just as she had the entire flight here.

So, she drove. She took all the familiar turns, her heart beating faster as each turn brought her closer. By the time she parked in front of the vacant lot, she felt as if she was having a panic attack. The house was gone. Nothing but weeds and shrubbery grown from ashes covered the place that once held so many memories. She opened the door of the rental car and stepped out, the cool air giving her breath back. She shut the door and locked it before slowing walking forward, her feet feeling heavy with despair yet strangely light and surreal.

A present dandelion transformed to a former front porch just outside a front door in bad need of a paint job. She kissed Greg for the last time and he strolled back to his car just before she felt a rough hand drag her through the now open front door.

A wild blackberry bush was now the old, creaky wooden floor as she stood in horror, tears coursing down her red cheeks. Young Tommy stood before her, clutching a smoking six-shooter. A slowly growing pool of blood lay beneath her father. She never opened her mouth but heard herself ask him why. He gave many answers, none of which mattered. She didn't care. That was their father. He was good man, despite what he did to them after their mother died. Tommy killed their father…_her_ father. She couldn't believe what her eyes showed her. And yet, she'd walked right up to him and took the gun out of his hands. She'd put in its' box and in her backpack before shooing him out of the house. She watched her younger self pour her father's beloved drink over the creaky wood and set a match before disappearing through the front door, never to return. She'd burned the evidence. She couldn't watch her brother go to jail for anything…not even for murdering a man she'd loved, a man she'd respected despite his flaws.

She pushed on, a sapling became a staircase. She turned away as fifteen-year-old Teresa struggled to pull herself up the stairs, her drunken father trying to pull her back down by her ankle.

She ran back to the non-existent front door. She couldn't take any more. She froze as the door reappeared, her father's back turned to her as he spoke to an officer on the porch where she'd kissed Greg. She didn't have to come any closer to know what the two men were saying. Her mother had died...years ago. Lisbon sank to the ground, a crushing weight on her chest. It had all happened years ago…She knew that now. She knew everything now. She took a deep breath and pushed past the memories, sprinting to the car, trying desperately to rid her mind of the distressing movie reel of haunting memories.

* * *

Jane approached slowly. The still figure standing in the lone cemetery never moved, never acknowledged his slowly entreating presence. She knew he was there and she knew it was him. He took it as invitation enough to come stand by her. He leaned forward slightly to see silent tears making a glacier-slow path down her cheeks as she stared at the two headstones before them. Her gaze held so many emotions; sadness, bitterness, anger, a steadfastness to be strong and to never let anyone hurt her. He wondered if this was what she looked like at her father's funeral.

"Lisbon, I'm so sorry." She let out a shuddering breath and he plunged on before she could stop him. "I know it isn't what you want to hear right now and I know that it doesn't really make you feel better. Nothing will, for that matter. But, I know that it's the truth. I am sorry. You went through this so long ago and you've dealt with it and kept it inside for so long. I knew it was never my place to meddle in your past and I've tried to steer clear of it so many times before. I know it hurts you. I never knew just how much until recently and I – "

"Jane," she protested softly and gently pressed a finger against his lips, stilling them. She turned silently back to the headstones. He turned as well, taking the silent cue. He wondered how long they'd been standing there in companionable silence when she spoke again. "You kissed me."

He froze. She said it so matter-of-factly that he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do or say next. "Uh, yes – yes, I did."

"You kissed me before all of this happened."

"Yes," he nodded.

"Why?" Her whisper broke on the wind.

He let out a small, sad laugh as he started to toe the dirt with the tip of his shoe. "I – uh – thought that might be a bit obvious by now."

She finally looked over at him and would have reveled in how unsure he seemed of himself had she not been so sad. "Jane."

"I love you, Lisbon…Teresa."

She sighed and shook her head, her silent tears flowing faster as she turned away from him. "No you don't," she said softly before walking toward her car.

He stood debating before rushing up to her. He stood in between her and the car. "Just give me a minute, Lisbon. Just a minute. That's all I ask. You can leave here alone today. You can go back to your apartment in Sacramento alone. You can keep doing it all alone. You can keep running for as long as you want but it won't change the fact that I'm here. It won't change the fact that I'm in love with you and don't bother saying that I'm not because I am and nothing's going to change that. So, you can leave and you can keep running but I'm still going to be here, Teresa Lisbon, whether you like it or not and you damn well know it."

He watched the fire return to her cold eyes as she debated between punching him and kissing him fiercely. What a wondrous sight it was to see Teresa Lisbon truly return to life before his eyes, jaded and all. Perhaps she was a little frayed around the edges, but that was the Lisbon he truly belonged with. Tragedy made them who they were and tragedy brought them together, but _they_ would _keep_ them together. He failed to contain his smug smile as she apparently settled her internal debate and was fully prepared as she pressed her lips against his in a searing kiss.

She finally pulled away and he rested his forehead against hers as he tried to stop his heart from beating out of his chest. "I love you too," she breathed. "You jackass," she added with a laugh.

He hated to ruin the moment but they needed to talk about this sooner rather than later. There would never be a good time for this and now was as good a time as any. "Teresa, as much as I'm enjoying our lovely moment here, there are some things we should probably talk about."

"Like…" she drew out, silently asking him to fill in the blanks.

"Tommy," he said and watched her eyes turn cold once again. He tightened his hold on her just before she tried to break free. "You forgave him before."

"And I'll forgive him again but it's going to take time," she said slowly through clenched teeth.

"Okay. I get that the wounds are still raw. I just – "

She tilted her head slightly, scrutinizing him. "Stop feeling guilty, Jane. It's not your fault. And, hey, it's not the first time I lost my memory," she joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"No, it isn't the first time but – " He closed his eyes as she cut him off with a kiss.

She pulled away a few minutes later. "Stop," she breathed, her eyes closed. "Stop beating yourself up. Just get me out of here and take me home…to Sacramento," she clarified, opening her eyes.

He sighed, not feeling any less guilty though his heart warmed at the thought of taking her home…that she _wanted_ him to take her home. He smiled slightly before pecking her on the lips. "I think I can do that."

* * *

**The ending to Fugue in Red was very nicely done but I like happy endings for my stories. Hope you've enjoyed this lovely readers. My honest favorite moment is Jane's speech when Lisbon tries to leave the cemetery. **

**Deleted/Alternate Scene that didn't fit in and drew everything out too long. It comes right after Lisbon calls Jane a jackass and before he talks about Tommy. Before editing, Jane brought the topic of Tommy up in the hotel parking lot and that wasn't quite the curtain-drawing ending I wanted so I deleted it but thought you might enjoy reading it nevertheless.**

"As sweet as that is, I think we should leave," he said, breathless.

She pulled back and tilted her head with a small smirk. "What's wrong, Patrick? Getting a little old?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Not nearly as old as you think, Teresa," he countered with a smoldering look that made her flush. "But I don't think we're exactly in the most appropriate place for making out."

Lisbon looked around as if just realizing her surroundings and laughed aloud, causing a few passersby to look at her strangely. They both took that as their cue to get in her car. They drove on the way to her hotel in silence before she turned to him. "Jane."

He smiled at the fact that she still used his last name. "Yeah?"

"What was I like?"

He felt a coolness rush through his body. "What?"

"What was the other me like? I mean, I figured out why I couldn't remember. I really don't need to see those scenes again," she muttered to herself. "But what was I like?"

He hesitated, debating how much to tell her if anything. "You really want to know?"

She crinkled her nose. "I wasn't hitting on everyone, was I?"

"No," he chuckled, "apparently that's just me."

She rolled her eyes. "Cho said that, not me."

"Exactly. You never told me what I was like. Why should I tell you?"

"I didn't tell you because you were a pig."

"Fair enough. Rest assured you weren't a pig."

She sighed exasperatedly. "Is that all you're going to tell me?"

"Is that all you're going to tell _me_?" He countered.

"Patrick Jane!" She screamed, causing him to laugh from the driver's seat.


End file.
